Who, me? A shipper? What makes you say that?
by idolsidle
Summary: Zutara Week 2013. Calor, Euphoria, Voices, Gravity, Bound, Soothe and Spark. I'm not an addict, I swear. Hahaha, who am I kidding? Rated M because I'm paranoid about FF taking my shit down.
1. Calor

**_Zutara Week 2013 - Day 1 : Calor_**

**_Rated : K+ (Unexpectedly tame, in other words.)_**

**_I've been craving this kind of AU lately, so most of my entries will probably be like this one._**

**_Guys, I did my best. Just enjoy my Modern AU zutara, I guess._**

**_I'm not even late, I just posted them on tumblr first._**

* * *

**_Cover art by dragonXtail on _****_deviantart. Gorgeous stuff, let me tell you._**

* * *

Katara pushed open the door of the tea shop with a quick movement, zipping through the door, eager to get out of the cold outside.

Shutting the door on the potential draft, she paused to unwind her scarf and rid her face of the moisture that had gathered there because of her breath.

The teashop was not by any means empty, but considering its usual popularity, the place was practically barren. The hum of voices was low and the heat and smell of tea and coffee warmed the dark-skinned girl's chilled body.

Katara advanced through the rickety tables towards the line at the counter, feeling brief irritation at how the cold affected her now. She was too used to this Earth Kingdom city. She was Southern Water Tribe! She'd only been here a few years, ever since her father had moved her grandmother, her brother and her in order to follow his work. She shouldn't be shivering this much at what was considered mild weather in her home.

_When was that exactly, that we moved?_ Katara thought. _What year? My eleventh year of schooling? No. No, the tenth. - So, if I'm second year university now, and I took a gap year, that's six years._

Congratulating herself on the math, Katara decided that since the number of years required counting on two hands, it was large enough to excuse her body's traitorous cold.

There was only one person in front of her in line now, so Katara hurried her perusal of the menu as they counted out change for their order.

"What can I get you?" intoned the boy manning the counter.

Katara lay a finger on her chin, brow furrowing as her eyes caught a particular line of text. "Hmmm, um, what's that new drink on the specials menu? Calor? Is that how you say it? What's in it?"

"Calor." Said the boy, drawing out the "o" and rolling the "r".

"What?" Katara turned to the voice.

_Whoa. Not a boy._

_That right there is a man, Katara. A prrreeetty one._

Wide blue eyes took in his features in a nanosecond. Ebony hair, gold eyes, pale skin and straight, aristocratic features. Her breath stuttered soundlessly when her eyes caught the scar across one eye, but she had seen bad injuries before, and managed to compose her surprise lightning-fast.

Katara tuned in again, just in time to hear him speak once more.

"Calor. It's Spanish. It means 'heat'." He said, voice low and raspy at just the right levels.

_Are you kidding me? His voice is sexy too? That's just unfair. Seriously. I demand a redo._

_On what grounds?_

… _it's distracting?_

_Who cares? Like I said, he's prrreeetty._

Katara smiled lightly. "Really? Neat. But if it's just called 'heat', what's in the drink? I'm assuming it's hot?" She cocked an eyebrow in question.

A tiny grin lifted one corner of his mouth. "You assume right. The ingredients, well," he sighed, "they're actually a secret. Only me and my uncle know them. It's guaranteed to warm you up though?" He looked a bit sheepish by the end of his sentence, or rather question. Cute.

She grinned. "I'll take one 'calor' then, thanks."

He nodded and turned to make the drink. Katara leaned on the counter, becoming aware of her surroundings again and thanking La that there had been no one behind her in line to get impatient and ruin her admiration of the _prrreeetty_ shop boy.

"Did you say only you and your uncle know the ingredients? Does that mean you're Iroh's nephew?"

"Yes." He replied, back towards her as he stirred something in a small steaming metal pitcher. "He's my uncle on my dad's side." He turned, placing a mug in front of her. "I'm Zuko."

Delicate fingers wrapped themselves around the plain white mug. She brought it to her face, smiling at him over the rim. "Katara."

Nostrils flared as she inhaled. It smelled _good_. Like chocolate and milk and chai and cookies and cinnamon and honey and toast and coffee and, most of all, _heat_.

Taking a sip, she sighed. It was _good_. And _hot_. She decided to wait awhile before attempting another sip.

"So why 'calor'?" she asked, deciding that the counter with the handsome man was as good a place as any to wait for her drink to cool a bit.

He shrugged, hands braced on the counter. "We didn't know what to call it. 'Heat' seemed somehow appropriate but my uncle thought it needed something to spice it up. I took Spanish for a couple years in high school and suggested 'calor', as a joke mind you, and the rest is history."

"Recent history. I've never seen it on the menu before and I come here all the time now. In fact, I've never seen you here either."

He smiled. "You can't have been coming here that long then. I've been here for years, it's just that I recently spent six months travelling. Uncle and I mixed up that drink before I left, but he wanted to wait for my return to put it on the menu. I have no idea why." His brow furrowed, as if he was actually trying to figure it out. Katara knew the old man though, as of course he must as well, better than her in fact. And if anything could be proven about Iroh, it was that his methods were rarely explainable, especially while they were still in motion.

She giggled and braved another sip of the delicious drink. It was the perfect temperature now. "Mmmmmm, 'calor' indeed. You and your uncle did a fine job on this one." She noticed his blush at the compliment just before her mind registered that her pronunciation differed from his. "Is that how you say it? 'Calor'?"

"Not quite. You're saying it more like 'cal-ore'. You need to draw out the 'o' a bit and roll the 'r'. 'Calor'."

Katara repeated the word. The 'o' proved easy but rolling the 'r' gave her some trouble.

Sixty minutes and what felt like a thousand times as many attempts later, Katara amended her statement to 'gave her lots of trouble'.

Zuko had served nine customers in the meantime and held an ongoing conversation with her, talking about anything and everything all the while repeating the word about a million times for her. His shoulders were now shaking with light laughter as Katara pursed her lips and shoved her tongue behind her teeth trying to "roll the 'r' at the tip of her tongue" as Zuko had instructed her.

"GAH. I can't do it!" she pouted from over her second mug of "calor" and slouched on the bar stool she had dragged over to the counter.

"Don't worry about it." Zuko said, wiping down the counter and grinning lightly.

Her pout only deepened. Then her eyes caught the clock and she gasped. "Shoot! I have to go!" She swallowed the last of the liquid deliciousness and jumped off the stool grabbing her bag and scarf.

She failed to catch Zuko's slightly disappointed face.

She jogged to the door before coming up short as she realized she'd forgotten something.

She was at the counter and back to the door in record time.

"Bye Zuko! Thanks for the drink! And the pronunciation lesson! See ya!" she called over her shoulder at the slightly shell-shocked tea server.

Watching the door swing shut behind her, Zuko turned his vision to the much more interesting sight of the number scrawled on the back of his hand in the first pen Katara had managed to snatch from the counter, mumbling something about having "forgot this".

His hand felt warm where she'd grabbed it. He carefully recopied the number onto a more permanent surface, flexing it whenever he felt it twinge with the lingering heat.

_Calor indeed_, he thought with a rare full smile on his face.

* * *

**Good christ, the fluff nearly killed me.**

**By the way, my inspiration for this was my own inability to roll my "r"s in the spanish way. It's supposed to be at the tip of your tongue instead of in your throat, like it is for french, which is what I _do_ speak. Unfortunately, people around me think it's helpful to repeat it a million times, as if I'll absorb the ability through osmosis or something. I _hate_ that. Of course, if it was Zuko repeating it for me, that might be better.**


	2. Euphoria

**_Euphoria_**

**_Rated : T (still somewhat surprising_)**

**_Only just managed to finish this. Please excuse any mistakes._**

**_So basically I was wondering what things could cause euphoria, and I remembered that lack of oxygen can do that (hypoxia) and then the whole thing went from there._**

**_I'm not super sure about this one, but it happened and I fucking promised myself that I would get entries up for everyday of Zutara week, and I'll be damned if I break it. Promises to yourself can be the most important._**

* * *

Katara hadn't cared when Sokka had first mentioned it. It had been when they were still at the Western Air Temple, and all Katara cared about concerning Zuko was that he taught Aang properly and that her fantasies of beating him to a pulp might one day come true.

What did she care if Zuko had said he was never happy? Sokka himself hadn't even given it much thought until nearly two days after he and Zuko had returned from the Boiling Rock with her father.

It was different now. Zuko had more than proven himself, and Katara spent a good portion of her time wondering about his depressive statement as she gloved her hands in water to perform yet another healing session on his fading lightning scar.

She'd been in the Fire Nation for two months since the end of the war, since Zuko had been crowned Fire Lord. She refused to leave until she was absolutely sure Zuko would not be in any pain from his wound, pain which could distract him from his very important and very strenuous work. He tried to insist, he knew she was needed home, but still she refused. He had saved her life and she would make damn sure he kept a hold of his.

She also worried that if she left he would have fewer friends in the Fire Nation. Mai had left recently, her and Zuko becoming aware that the feeling between them was not the same as it had been before. They were still friends, but it just wasn,t the same. Also, Zuko had sort of forgotten Mai in prison. It had put a damper on the whole thing.

Ty Lee was with the Kyoshi warriors and though Zuko would have his uncle for as long as he needed him, Katara was sure of it, he would be visiting the Jasmine Dragon and Ba Sing Se regularly, and so she still felt the pull to stay.

She worried about the weight on his shoulders, that of an entire country. The sight of Zuko at the head of the council's table in the throne room, or of him hunched over stacks of paperwork in his office late at night, always forced her mind back to her question.

_Was Zuko happy?_

He hadn't had much choice about becoming Fire Lord. Katara knew he could do it, that he was ready and capable, but she did not know if it made him happy.

* * *

Eventually, after another month and a half, Katara did leave Zuko. She met up with her friends, facilitated some negotiations and soon enough was back home in the South Pole, helping to rebuild.

Still though, she would sometimes wake up early in the morning and drowsily watch the sun come up, wondering once again about Zuko's level of happiness.

* * *

After another few months, when the main treaties had been worked out between nations, they discovered they had some breathing room again and Katara found herself returned to Ba Sing Se, to the Jasmine Dragon tea shop, being served tea by the Fire lord himself, while Sokka attempted to capture the moment on paper.

Zuko had been smiling lightly while he served the tea, but it turned into a scowl during the big reveal of Sokka's drawing.

Katara had giggled at Zuko's anti-gravitational hair in the drawing until she realized that the way hers had been drawn made it look like she had Momo's ears.

This made Zuko laugh and suddenly, her brother's embarrassing her was worth it.

This thought crept into her mind as she kissed Aang later on the balcony, causing slight guilt to run up her spine. She did not understand why that was though and so put in from her mind. She knew in this moment that _she_ was happy.

* * *

Later, during that same visit to Ba Sing Se, the Gaang stayed up late, drinking spiked iced tea drinks, courtesy of Iroh and Toph, and playing some game Toph had invented and named "Truthbending".

The sole purpose was to answer truthfully whatever question you had been asked. If you didn't, Toph would know. If you didn't want to, you had to drink a glass of the tea.

Katara had already been feeling quite tipsy and considerably more knowledgeable about her friends by the time her eyes landed on Zuko and she asked him if he'd ever felt euphoric before in his life.

Zuko took a full minute to think about it, which already dimmed Katara's hopes. She did not know why Zuko's happiness was suddenly so important, but she could not let it go.

"I don't really know. I remember I was happiest when my mom was still around, especially when I was younger, but I don't think that was euphoria." He paused, thinking again. The group had gone a little quiet. "There was also one time just a few months after I had been banished when one of the crew locked me in a room on the ship that was airtight and had some kind of gas in it. I felt euphoric for a few minutes then, but I think it was because of the lack of air."

The room had gone quite silent now. Zuko was still looking thoughtfully at the ceiling, trying to remember more when Toph spoke up with her usual tact.

"Are you serious, Sparky? I don't think that's what Sugar Queen meant when she asked about feeling 'euphoric'. An assassination attempt isn't something to be euphoric about."

Zuko eyes narrowed. "Well it's not like I was happy about someone trying to kill me again, it was probably the lack of oxygen, like I said." He enthused, tone annoyed.

"Hang on." Suki now had the floor. "_Again_? Trying to kill you _again_?"

"Oh no. That's against the rules, Suki. It's my turn to ask someone a question now. " Zuko's jaw set stubbornly.

The rules were clear and so, they had no choice but to move on.

Zuko smirked, "Alright Toph, this one's for you. When you were younger – "

Katara giggled at Toph's blush and her descriptions of her childhood stuffed animals, including the names she had given some of them. All the while, still she worried about Zuko. Her question had only uncovered that he hadn't had very much cause for happiness in his life, and she was getting more determined by the minute to bring him some.

* * *

Later, Zuko's happiness was pushed to the back of her mind as the issue of removing colonials from the Earth Kingdom nearly restarted the war.

She hated that time. She'd had to go with Aang to confront Zuko, all the while desperately hoping that he hadn't betrayed them again. The thought that he could have hurt more than she cared to admit.

On the way, when she had made Aang promise that he would do to Zuko what he hadn't to Ozai should things degenerate, she had known it was important to ask him, to make him promise this. Leaving Ozai alive, even without his bending, had already caused them more problems than they were interested in having.

Still, as he looked her in the eye and promised he would, she could not help the voice in her mind that whispered nastily that he had refused to do this to Ozai, that Zuko was their friend, that he was being a hypocrite.

She knew this was, in some ways, unfair. Aang had chosen his spiritual beliefs over the needs of the world that first time, and it had made her doubt him, not to mention it had been extremely problematic. Now, he had a chance to show he could choose the world over himself, and he was taking it. He was growing up, an all around good, important thing, but a worm of doubt still lingered in Katara's mind.

* * *

Discovering Zuko's reasons had banished the hurt that another betrayal would have caused. Zuko had not betrayed them; his reasons had been true and legitimate.

Still though, they were problematic. What was there to be done about colonials who didn't want to leave, whom they couldn't very well uproot from a land they'd lived in for two or three generations?

As they sat down to discuss the matter, the question of Zuko's happiness once again entered Katara's mind.

He looked regal. He was taller than when she'd seen him nine months ago, already halfway on his way to being nineteen years old. Still too young an age to have to try and make the decision between country and conciliation. And despite his robes, and his extra height, Katara could see the sleep he had been missing around his eyes, or rather his eye (since the scar prevented it on the other), and in the frown that graced his mouth.

Honestly, Katara seriously doubted that Zuko was happy right now, not to mention most other times.

* * *

Another summer passed, and another. Issues were tackled one by one, keeping Team Avatar fully occupied year round.

Finally, there were no more emergencies for the moment. Any concerns they had could be dealt with on paper or with endless discussions.

They decided to gather for another breather. Zuko was still too busy to leave the Fire Nation, and so, they all gathered in the palace.

The visit was routine, although Katara and Aang weren't as friendly as usual after their recent breakup. It hadn't been a particularly bad breakup, but nor was it pleasant, and they were still a little awkward around each other.

Still, Katara was enjoying her freedom here. The Fire Nation clothing Zuko provided all of them with was comfortable and kept her cool in the heat of the country. She could practice her waterbending in any one of the many training grounds around the palace just as easily as she could sit by the pond and coo over how cute the turtleducklings were. Most of all, she could make sure Zuko didn't run himself into the ground with all the work he was _always_ doing. The issue of his happiness niggled at the back of her mind.

Katara's efforts led to her leading Zuko by the sleeve of his light tunic to "actually sit down with the Gaang for dinner." Iroh was unfortunately in Ba Sing Se at the moment, overseeing the Jasmine Dragon for a few weeks.

He had protested, detailing the "million and one" reports he had to write, but by the time he was sitting and the combined forces of her and Sokka had forced him to eat (Sokka had been more horrified than Katara to discover that Zuko was not entirely sure when the last time he had eaten had been), he was looking better, smiling that tiny smile as he watched the Gaang's antics.

Katara grinned in triumph and settled in to enjoy the moment. The outdoor terrace where they were eating looked out over the palace wall and then the city, where she could see just a sliver of light still on the horizon. In a few minutes, it would be completely dark.

Suddenly, she felt a tug on her arm and looked to her left to find a frowning Toph. Blue eyes widened. She knew that frown. Someone was here who wasn't supposed to be.

Before anyone could react, a figure dropped from the canvas ceiling covering their heads. Landing deftly behind Zuko, Katara saw the flash of knife and opened her mouth to scream.

Her warning turned out not to be needed as Zuko's eyes widened, narrowed in concentration and disappeared from her sight as he ducked the blow, all in the same fragment of a second.

The knife was still outstretched in the air above Zuko's head and back as the latter suddenly spun in his seated position, facing his attacker and wrapping his right arm along the knife wielding limb of the assassin. Zuko's scarless profile faced Katara, and she could see his eyes lit with a fierce determination as he flexed his hold and the assassin _screamed_.

The knife clattered to the ground, forgotten, and Zuko released the arm only to brace his own arms on the floor and kick his legs straight up into the intruder's face, effectively flooring him.

Immediately, the stones of the terrace floor engulfed the prone figure up to his neck, icicles floated inches from his face and a sword, staff and folded fan were aimed at him.

Everybody let out the breath they had been holding.

"Thanks guys. I think it's alright now." Zuko smiled tiredly at them, body already readjusting after the adrenaline rush. Guards were pouring in from all sides, surrounding the assassin, asking "My Lord" Zuko if he was all right.

"I'm sorry, Zuko." Toph suddenly apologized. Katara stared. Toph _never_ apologized. Nor did she ever use someone's real name. "I didn't see him. The ceiling.. – it's cloth and – and," her jaw set fiercely, and she hid her milky eyes beneath her fringe.

Katara resisted the urge to hug her. She knew Toph was scared and angry at herself. Her actions were a dead giveaway. But she also knew Toph would not want a hug right now.

Zuko's good eye was widened as he looked at Toph. Then his face softened, and that tiny smile returned to it. "Don't worry about it, Toph. I know it's not exactly a comfort, but it's not the first time." Toph hung her head further as Katara questioned Zuko's sanity/brainpower. _Of course_ that wasn't a comfort.

But Zuko wasn't finished. His voice suddenly became pompous, his hands clasped behind his back in a very official pose. "But, seeing as how this mistake must be remedied, I think it best that you stay in the palace for a while, as an additional precaution against these intruders." He smirked suddenly. "That way, 'I'll have plenty of time to get back at you', eh Toph?"

Using her own words from when he'd first joined them at the Western Air Temple against her did the trick. Toph looked up, a smirk to rival Zuko's blooming on her face. "Fine Sparky. Since I'm _soooo_ indebted to you."

Zuko nodded once. "Good."

He and Toph left the room, followed by a doubled contingent of guards. Aang was about to follow when Sokka held him up.

"One sec. I gotta ask the guards something." Sokka said, turning to one of the guards dealing with assassin still on the floor.

"Excuse me. I don't know if you can tell me, but… How many times has Fire Lord Zuko been threatened in this way? How many more assassination attempts have there been?"

The guard bowed respectfully. "I have been a guard in this palace for twenty-five years. Since his birth, Fire Lord Zuko has survived sixteen assassination attempts on these grounds." There was a glimmer of pride in the old guard's voice as he talked about Zuko.

Katara would have been proud in a strange way too, had it not been for the fact that: "_**Sixteen!**_? Sixteen assassination attempts on _these grounds_?"

The guard looked slightly taken aback at her incredulity. "Fire Lord Zuko was born a Fire Nation royal. Before the war ended, there were those who aimed for it's ending, and hoped to meet their target by removing heirs to the throne. After the war, there have been those who wish for the war to begin again, and so attempt to remove my lord from power."

Aang spluttered this time. "But still! _Sixteen_?"

Now the guard almost looked amused. "Yes, Avatar. It is an unusually high number, it's true, but my lord is well-equipped to deal with the attempts."

"How do you know he's well-equipped?" asked Suki, who had remained the most calm out of all of them. Still, you could hear the slight reproach in her voice, suggesting that if the man thought that the guards were what equipped Zuko, then they had just been proven wrong.

The guard picked up on it and smiled slightly, not in the least perturbed. "Fire Lord Zuko is a master firebender. He is also a gifted dao wielder and he is extremely proficient in hand-to-hand combat without the aid of an element. As you observed here." The pride in the guard's face was undeniable now. "My lord also has his guards, though we failed him today," he hung his head, "and his friends, to protect him." He gestured to them.

Katara snorted. "Well, we didn't manage that too well today either."

The guard contained the smile about to flit across his face, but just barely. "Perhaps, but I do not believe my lord thinks of it that way. In fact," he leaned in, away from the bustle of guards behind him, as if telling them a secret, "far be it from me to speak for my lord, but I believe my lord is in better spirits when you are all present." He straightened up. "Remaining in good spirits can be just as important as avoiding the edge of a blade."

The guard winked, turned away and immediately began barking orders to his comrades concerning the disposal of the assassin.

Sokka, Suki, Aang and Katara pulled themselves together and left the terrace, walking quickly in the direction that Zuko and Toph had taken.

Zuko's happiness was once again at the forefront of Katara's mind as she frowned at the hallways they passed through.

She was glad that the guard had pointed out their effect on Zuko's contentment. It was true. He'd let out at least ten of those tiny smiles of his since they'd arrived.

Katara did not feel satisfied with that. Zuko was being threatened. Hadn't she promised that she would make sure he stayed alive after he had jumped in front of that lightning for her? Well, clearly, her work in that area was unfinished.

It was time to arrange for a more permanent living arrangement in the palace.

* * *

Another few months passed. One more assassination attempt was stopped before it got within fifty paces of Zuko by the combined efforts of Katara and Toph.

Toph was enjoying staying at the palace. Katara didn't know if Zuko had cleverly planned it, but his "order" for Toph to stay had come right around the time when her parents had been hassling her to return to Gaoling, to become a lady and get married. Toph's face when Katara had read that part of her mother's letter for her would have been comical if Katara hadn't known that Toph _was_ worried that her parents would in fact force her home. Staying in the Fire Lord's palace as an honored guest of the Fire Lord himself was enough to deter her parents from any kind of action. In fact, judging from their last letter, they were just tickled pink at the prospect.

Katara herself was enjoying her time in the palace immensely. She took over a portion of Zuko's work, things that could be fielded by someone he trusted so he wouldn't be too busy and also to keep herself busy. She hated being idle. He'd been floored when she'd asked to help, insisting she was here as a guest. After she held some dirty water from a convenient pail that had been passing underneath the window in the arms of a maid over his head, he conceded. He trusted her implicitly after all, as he'd said as he handed her several scrolls.

She blushed every time she thought of it. She still was not completely sure how to ensure Zuko's happiness in the long term and she thought long and hard on the subject, coming up with a few ways to make him 'euphoric' during quiet moments in her rooms that made her blush with the force of a thousand suns.

Toph began smirking whenever Katara and Zuko were in the room together, or when Katara was in the room and Zuko had just been mentioned. It irritated Katara to no end.

When she was most irritated with Toph, she'd go find Zuko and work alongside him or force him outside to spar or visit the residents of the city. She felt comfortable in his presence, despite Toph's smugness whenever she saw them together.

Finally, it was the council's submitted list of potential candidates for the next Fire Lady that made Katara snap into realization.

* * *

"Katara, I'm turning twenty-one in just a few weeks. I've been Fire Lord for four years. The council says I need a Fire Lady and an heir, and they're right. It's necessary to maintain the peace. The other nations need assurance that some distant cousin of mine isn't going to take over the throne and start the war again."

Zuko barely even looked up from the scroll he was reading while he said this. This only frustrated Katara even more.

She tossed her hands up before they landed squarely on her hips. "But they're treating it like a business arrangement! These women are listed in alphabetical order, with their most prominent family connections and their 'assets' listed next to them!" she huffed, "Aren't there female members on your council who disapprove of this – this – cattle herding!"

Zuko fixed her with a tired look. "Look Katara, I don't approve of the way they've done it either, but the council members are nothing if not efficient, including the female members. Those are the factors that are traditionally taken into account for an arranged marriage so they've listed them keeping that in mind. The list barely matters anyway. They'll suggest the person they're most interested in me marrying and I'll probably just go along with it. At this point it doesn't make much of a difference what I think." He turned back to his scroll. "Besides, I have to force my council into submission on a fair few issues. If me going along with this keeps them happy, it'll only be better for my consistent headaches."

With anger, indignancy and jealousy swirling in her gut, Katara threw her arms up again and stormed out of his office with the list clutched in her hand, leaving the rest of her work behind on the desk she occupied in the room.

_Zuko has a chance to be happy here - euphoric even_, she thought as she whirled around corners, _maybe not with me_, her heart stuttered briefly at the thought, _but he could probably find someone he likes amongst the… herd._ She glared at the paper in her hand.

Truly, it was upsetting the way the list was made and organized, but, away from Zuko, Katara could admit that she just didn't want any of these undoubtedly overly made up rich girls to sink their paws into the man she'd realized she loved about a month and a half ago, when the council had first started up their whispers about their Fire Lord's marriage.

After practically destroying about ten stone training dummies, walking through the gardens for half an hour and drinking four cups of 'calming' tea, Katara was still steaming.

There was only one thing for it.

* * *

"ZUKO!" she pushed aside the doors to his chambers with a yell, emotions churning.

She was nearly brought up short by the sight of the shirtless and extremely well-muscled Fire Lord removing the head piece from his hair and rubbing his scalp as he put it on the table in front of him.

However, she had far too much angry energy to be stopped by a mere eight-pack of abdominals.

His gold eyes were fixed on her advancing figure warily.

She just glared as she shoved her face in his. "I don't understand you!" She cried. "You have the opportunity here to meet someone you might really like! And even if that weren't the case, you are about to be forced to choose the person that you're expected to spend the rest of your life and you're just going along with what other people think! WHY EXACTLY IS THAT, HUH?!"

"Katara, I –"

"NO. You are not going to feed me that 'keep my council happy' koi dung! I KNOW there is something else going on here! The council's happiness doesn't matter! You've never been afraid of pissing them off before! Not to mention everybody else! This is YOUR happiness on the line! So, what the pentapus – "

"AND WHAT IS IT EXACTLY THAT YOU WANT ME TO DO, KATARA!" Zuko shot back at her. "HUH?! BLOW OFF THE COUNCIL AND SET OFF ON AN INTERNATIONAL VOYAGE TO MEET MY FUTURE BRIDE!?"

His hands grabbed his ebony locks and pulled. "I don't have that kind of time, and even if I did, it's not happening! An arranged marriage is the best thing for me!"

"But they won't know anything about you, or you them! They'll marry you because you're the Fire Lord and they're a noble!"

"SO WHAT!?" Wisps of smoke escaped his mouth as he snarled. "It's expected! It's not like anybody's going to want to marry me for my looks or personality, Katara! I'm not like you, with your – what was it? – five? - marriage proposals the last time you visited the Northern Water Tribe!"

Katara flinched at the reminder. She'd turned them all down of course. Every single one of them expected her to stop using her waterbending for anything but healing after she married them. They were pompous iceberg lickers.

Still her frustration with Zuko only rose. How dare he think that nobody would want him? Here she was, doing just that, and he couldn't rid his brain of his useless thoughts of little self-worth enough to realize that!? This called for drastic measures!

"And how the spirit loving, bloodied koalabear would you know that nobody wants you?" she hissed before grabbing his hair and planting her lips on his.

Yes. This was what she'd wanted. His hair was soft in her hands and his mouth was hot against hers, unsurprisingly. She could get used to this.

When they separated a minute or maybe an hour later, Zuko's arms were around her back, their bodies were pressed together and Katara's hand cupped the side of Zuko's neck, her thumb on his scar, stroking lightly.

Really, no more words needed to be said. It was clear now that they'd both wanted this for some time. However, with her anger gone, it occurred to Katara that Zuko had honestly believed it unlikely that somebody would want him. Too bad. She'd have to spend a lot of time from now on trying to convince him.

* * *

A year later, when Zuko proposed officially and Katara saw the smile that her answer caused, which was as wide as she'd ever seen it, she realized she'd had the ability to make Zuko happy this entire time.

He was happy when she was happy. They were happy together.

And by night, and sometimes by day – okay, maybe often by day too – Katara was learning more and more ways to render Zuko more than happy, _**euphoric **_even.

* * *

**So there you have it. On second thought. I like this one rather a lot. I honestly think that Zuko would have had rather a lot of assassination attempts on his person, being who he is, and judging by the amount of times there are assassination attempts on him in the show.**


	3. Voices

**_Voices_**

**_Rated : T_**

**_Christ, I rewrote this prompt like three times. I don't even know how good it is anymore. The type is just a friggin' blur in front of my face. But I said I would post something everyday, dammit!_**

**_Seriously, the struggle is real._**

* * *

I've been hearing voices all my life. Not in an unhealthy way, hearing voices that don't exist. Just… hearing. Somebody speaks; the sound reaches my ears, and is processed by my brain.

People think that hearing voices in the normal way isn't a problem; that they can't damage you the way voices that aren't real can. This is wrong. If anything they're worse, because you can't tell yourself that they don't exist. Those voices will surround you day in and day out, telling you everything you did or didn't want to hear. In both cases they can be utterly poisonous.

The first voice I remember was my mother's. She had a beautiful voice. It was clear and wise, sweet or scolding when it wanted to, urgent when it needed to be. It told me everything I wanted and needed to hear. I have never heard a voice like it, and I've been searching for years, trust me.

_Never forget who you are, Zuko._

The second voice I hear is my father's. His voice is harsh, commanding, unloving and unflattering. I've been hearing it since birth, and it's probably going to haunt me for the rest of my life.

_You will learn respect, and suffering will be your teacher._

The third voice I know is my sister's. Hers is a female's version of my father's. I think only one thing when I hear her voice.

_Azula always lies._

The final voice worth remembering in my short life is my uncle's. His voice is soothing and warm, like the tea he loves so much. I've had constant exposure to this voice for three years now, and it's still only managed to soothe my burns superficially. Especially the one I wear on my face. My mother's voice, equally if not more soothing, is long gone.

_A man needs his rest, Zuko._

I've been following one or more of these voices my entire life. Still, sometimes I forget that silence is a sneaky bastard, and it creeps up on me, proving what I knew already to be true, long before I'd heard the saying.

_Silence can be deafening._

I wake up often, not shaking anymore, because I'm so used to the dreams. I still check that my face isn't sizzling like pork on an open spit though. I've never been able to shake that habit.

The voices surround me.

_Useless. Lucky to be born. _

_ Dad's gonna_

_kill you. You are banished. _

_Isn't it obvious? I'm about to celebrate becoming an_

_ only child._

For so long, I followed the voices, fought against them, trying to prove I wasn't what they said, but I was just playing into their manipulative hands.

I realize that now, realize that the voice I've been following for a year, though originally for the wrong reasons, is really the one I should listen to.

The waterbender's voice, Katara's. I like it. It can be as cool and soothing as her element, and as fiery as mine.

It's her voice I hear from behind me as I sit on the edge of the roof of my family's summer home, unable to sleep after my dream.

She asks if I'm all right. I explain I'm a light sleeper and I couldn't fall back asleep. She says that's not what she asked.

I don't let my own voice betray what I really want to say.

_I'm sorry. I don't really deserve to be here. I don't want any of you to die at _

_ my family's hands. _

_ I think I'm falling in love with you._

I tell her I'm fine, just concerned about how this is all going to work out. It's partially true. She doesn't give assurances, and I know she is just as worried as I am.

* * *

When the lightning enters my body, I can't hear any voices.

Oh wait no, yes, there's Azula, not speaking, but laughing her cold, cruel, and now maniacal laugh.

I try to get up, I can't let Katara's voice be snuffed out, I know this isn't over, but it's not working. My vision tunnels and my head falls to the stone floor of the square.

Next thing I know, I'm waking up, feeling half dead and yet more alive by the minute. And as I look into those pretty, watery, blue eyes, I force myself to thank her.

She returns the thanks and I want to say that I wasn't just thanking her for saving me right now, but for every time she'd reached out to me, fought against me, made me work for her forgiveness. Instead I smile slightly. I'm too tired to talk again.

The comet still overhead gives me the strength I need to stand, to get to a room in the near-deserted palace. I collapse pretty soon after that. I hear Katara's worried voice as I fall asleep.

* * *

Years pass.

I wake up with the sun higher in the sky than usual. A spectacularly naked waterbender is pressed to me; cool, red sheets tangled around us.

She stirs as I kiss her head. Mumbles, yawns, looks up.

Her voice is husky with sleep and afterglow. It lights fires in my body, the meaning of the words just as important as the person speaking them.

"Good morning, husband of mine."

I smile. I rarely, if ever, hear the bad voices anymore. Not since she started sleeping in my bed.

* * *

**Wow, what a great ending. So beautifully _abrupt_. Honestly, I have no idea what I'm doing.**


	4. Gravity

**_Gravity_**

**_Rated : T_**

**_So, this is modern AU again. Sorry if you hate that. I'm not fully sure about it, but the idea wouldn't fucking leave me alone, so bear with me or just, you know, don't read it. To be continued on day 5 with the prompt "Bound"._**

* * *

Katara was sixteen when she met the boy who defied gravity.

She had been standing by her newly assigned locker at school, all set to begin her junior year. A slight hush had fallen over the hallway, so she'd turned to find the source.

There he was, walking down the corridor, bag slung over one shoulder, earbuds in his ears, unfazed by the stares that came at him from every angle, the whispers. The stares and whispers snaked over to him, hissing about the scar on his face, about how he was new, never seen before.

Still he walked evenly through the crowd. Katara knew well the kind of weight that the stares of people, and the people themselves, could hold. The boy seemed unaffected, gold eyes looking where he wanted to go, head held, not high, but level; ready.

By lunchtime, everyone was curious - everyone wanted to know him. All they knew was that his name was Zuko, Zuko Sozin, and that he'd just moved here. The entire cafeteria waited with bated breath for him to walk through its doors, but he never did. The rumours only increased as he remained a mystery.

They heard he'd been held back a year. That he'd been kicked out of his old school. That he'd been forced to come here, since it was the only school that would take him. That he'd done jail time. That he had a tattoo of a bleeding heart on his left butt cheek.

When the whispers reached this new low of factual potential, Katara stopped listening. She decided to find out for herself.

* * *

Their first meeting in the library did not go well. She found him _balancing _on the _back of a chair_, once again defying gravity and just about every law of physics she'd learned about up until now. He was trying to reach a book, and had just grabbed it when she spoke.

Unfortunately, her nervousness had shown through, and whatever she'd said (she couldn't even remember what it was now) had come out a little too loudly. She'd attracted the attention of the strict librarian, who had come whirling around the corner, a "shh" poised on her lips. The "shh" was stopped short when she caught sight of the boy still standing on the chair and promptly began scolding him, taking him to the principal's office to discuss his "lack of respect for school property and endangering other students".

Her face had been aflame as he'd walked by, giving her a slight glare.

She'd felt the look had been fair. She had after all gotten him sent to the principal's office. The principal probably wouldn't take it that seriously, since Ms. Joo Dee was famous for her complaints about students, but still, judging by the rumours, he probably already got enough flack because of his delinquent image.

His treatment of her later, however, was less excusable.

He didn't do anything openly antagonistic, but he brushed off her heartfelt apology for their first meeting. He never offered conversation, and didn't try to keep it going even though she'd just spent ten minutes seeking him out to tell him that Pakku had asked to speak to him.

Her brother Sokka had even invited him to join some sports teams, trying like her to be friendly, despite being extremely suspicious of any guy she showed any kind of interest in. Except Aang. Aang was safe to Sokka.

She'd seen Zuko's eyes light with something when her brother had mentioned it, but it was there and gone in less time then Sokka could say "meat". He had refused the offer with a near hostile, "No, thanks."

The constant brush-offs became progressively angrier on Zuko's part and therefore annoying for Katara, but she tried to remind herself that he did this to everyone who tried to approach him. She did not even fully understand why it was so important to her, but there was just something in the way he'd strode through the hall that first day, almost regal, that made her want to know him. Nonetheless, she found her efforts waning and her hurt growing the more he pushed her to the side.

* * *

Later, she'd been shopping with Suki and Toph (a miracle, let me tell ya) one Saturday when they'd gotten the invite from her brother and Aang to meet them at some new coffee place that had opened up near them.

She didn't know where Sokka and Aang had gotten their information, but it was clearly not a coffee shop. It served coffee, for sure, and hot chocolate, and sweets and everything. But judging by the menu listing 72 different kinds of teas, this place had a different specialty.

They'd been greeted by a cheerful old man who told them to call him Iroh and immediately sat them down and seemed to wheedle their problems out of them and assign the right tea as a cure for each one all within five minutes. He'd been imparting some wisdom about ginseng when a voice had called out behind him.

"Uncle? The new china just arrived, but we still have to clear the cupboards of the old stuff. Where do you want me to put it for now?"

The voice was familiar. But it couldn't be. The old man turned around and Katara immediately saw that it could be. Standing there was Zuko, a massive box clearly labeled "CAUTION – CHINAWARE: HANDLE WITH CARE" hefted in his arms as if it was filled with fairy dust and not kilos upon kilos of fine china.

What was it with this boy? Did he just not get the memo about how gravity was basically a thing?

Zuko had not noticed them, and it took him giving them ten minutes of a free show as he expertly wound through the tables and dropped off drinks without spilling a drop, despite how crowded the place was, to notice them sitting there gaping at him.

He'd blushed to the tips of his ears at their staring. His blood was clearly equally unconcerned with gravity at this point in time. At some point he disappeared into what they assumed was the kitchen, and Iroh promptly ambled over to them and asked them to be patient with his nephew, who was a very complicated man. The glint in his eyes somehow seemed like enough of an explanation to Katara for his knowledge of something she was sure Zuko would not tell him about.

* * *

He'd worked even harder to avoid them after the teashop, especially Katara, who had renewed, somewhat, her efforts to engage him. Sometimes she saw that same flash of something in his eyes as she'd seen when he'd turned down Sokka's offer to join a school team. She thought it was want, but she could not for the life of her understand why, if he wanted it, he kept denying it. He kept denying it in a harsher and harsher way too. The last few times he'd managed to insult her and a few of her friends.

So, Katara had laid off her efforts at getting to know Zuko. The insults had been the last straw. There was something depressing about trying so hard with someone who was just as stubbornly resisting. Now, she was upset with his attitude, angry at his stubbornness and had taken to glaring at him when he passed. She didn't want to know him anymore. She felt she'd gotten a good enough look at his personality and it was not pleasant. She was well on her way to disliking him thank you very much.

Then, she witnessed him fly and she became only more frustrated, not to mention confused.

* * *

She'd been heading with the rest of the students in her phys ed class to the 'second gym', which had basically been forgotten when the new one had been built, and which housed equipment used for the occasional obscure phys ed unit. In this case, they were going to use the old gymnastics equipment. Katara was laughing alongside Ty Lee, who was inordinately excited to be able to flip even more than she did in cheerleading practice.

They had been walking in the middle of the group of about 20 students, but when they reached the double doors leading to the room, they saw that their classmates had sort of congregated around the entrance. Curious, they pushed through.

Katara's mouth fell open. In the far corner, swinging effortlessly on a high bar mounted there, was Zuko. He wore a t-shirt and shorts, some kind of grips on his hands, and he was swinging fully around the bar seemingly without a care for the distance to the floor or anything like… - like gravity, for instance. As they watched, his swings grew in momentum, before he let go of the bar and flipped somehow, grabbing hold again. This happened three times in quick succession before he began the swinging again, faster and faster until he let go and flew through the air, body flat but turning on some unknown axle, before he landed solidly on the floor.

He straightened and began working on getting the grips on his hands off, turning only to catch sight of the wide-eyed class and freeze.

He recovered and began walking quickly to a bag, his bag, on the floor, shoving his feet into some sneakers and shouldering it, refusing to make eye contact.

Unfortunately for him, the only way out was through them and Mr. Piandao had managed to recover from the shock as well.

"Zuko, is it?" the teacher spoke, raising an eyebrow as Zuko stopped a meter from the doors and turned stiffly to look at him. Katara was still in too much shock to even glare at him.

"Yes."

"Our school does host a gymnastics team during the second semester if you'd be inter – "

"No, thanks." The answer was robotic, cutting off Piandao with the same words he'd used for Sokka's offer. He shot through the small crowd of people and out the door as soon as they left his mouth.

Piandao frowned and murmured something. Eventually he waved everyone in and got them started on some exercises to warm up. He was still muttering to himself as Katara passed by him on her way to her "designated practice mat".

"Practically Olympic level, I don't understand." Her eyes widened. Olympic? Spirits, who _was_ Zuko Sozin?

* * *

At this point, with this new revelation, Katara's patience was running seriously thin, her frustration and anger rising. She didn't get it! He was hiding a physical talent the likes of which plenty of people would kill for. But why? He could go seriously far with it, but he'd refused Mr. Piandao's offer point blank. And then there was the self-imposed isolation thing. She could acknowledge that maybe she had pushed him too far, and that's why he'd become so mean, mean enough to make her blood boil with dislike. But seriously, it made no sense! She could see that he wanted to, but refused anyway. She'd seen it when she'd first talked to him, when Sokka had talked about joining a team, when she'd sought him out after class to try and get through to him. If he had other friends, if he had a concrete reason to shut her out, maybe she might make allowances. But he didn't! She'd run into him enough (read: stalked) near the beginning of her friendly campaign to know that he was pretty much always on his own. Katara didn't know a single person in the world who truly preferred being alone over having at least _someone_ to talk to.

Despite her self-assurances, Katara still felt a small niggle of doubt that maybe Zuko really just wanted to be left alone, and maybe she should have respected that more.

Unfortunately, that niggle was really rather tiny and she'd always been the type to let people know when she was angry with them, and why she was angry. Her anger towards Zuko was no exception.

So, it was only natural that when she saw him next, leaving the school after final bell, that she confront him.

She recalled questioning him, getting a tiny bit incoherent and finally calling him an iceberg licking puppy punter before huffing off. Looking back on it even a few minutes later, she regretted that.

She then refused to look at him for two weeks.

* * *

The next time she saw him, it was by chance, as she'd been avoiding him. To her surprise, this time it was he who initiated conversation. She regarded him frostily while he spoke.

"Look, I'm sorry I've been so… angry, it's just – I'm not used to this kind of… situation. It's just not great for - for me." He managed to get out, looking frustrated with his lack of eloquence even as the first words left his lips.

Katara almost felt sorry for him, but her frustration had yet to dissipate, so she merely nodded and said, "If you say so." in a tone of voice that suggested she was not impressed with his apology. Zuko narrowed his eyes when he recognized this. Well, could she really be blamed for not accepting that most shitty explanation? He'd insulted her and her friends, been a rude bastard and he owed her more than that. Primarily, she wanted to know what had even caused him to try and apologize, just when she'd started to leave him alone, which she had thought was what he wanted.

They regarded each other with narrowed eyes for nearly a minute. Katara almost wanted to laugh, imagining what they must look like to passers-by. Probably like two teenagers engaged in an intense staring contest, which was pretty close to what it was actually. Eventually, she broke, huffing and looking away muttering that she didn't "have time to do this right now" and she needed to go.

She turned and headed across the street for the bus stop she'd been aiming for on this small two way street before he'd caught up with her.

Suddenly, she heard the screech of tires, smelled burning rubber, saw the scared faces of the other people in the bus stop, tasted her own fear as she registered the car attempting to stop and felt a shove against her back as she was pushed forward, out of the way of the oncoming vehicle.

Her hands scraped on the pavement and she froze as she heard _impact_ behind her. She was on her feet and turning faster than she ever had before. She _knew_ it would be him who had pushed, she _knew_ he wouldn't have been afraid of what gravity and that car would do to him, but she hoped she was wrong.

But it was him. Lying on the ground, face down, one arm bent strangely at his side. She couldn't see his legs because the finally stopped car blocked them from her view, but she could see as he twitched, actually getting one hand underneath himself and feebly trying to _push himself up_ before he sank back to the ground.

Thank La, he was _alive_. And also a complete _idiot_. What was he doing trying to _get up_?

* * *

The next few hours were a blur of ambulance lights and white hospital walls. Zuko was taken into surgery for a few hours, but none of his injuries were truly life threatening, and Katara thanked every deity she knew for it.

She was being monitored only for a potential head injury and more scrapes than she'd originally thought she'd gotten, but they heeded her request and put her in the same room that Zuko was wheeled into later that day.

His uncle and her family and friends arrived within minutes of Zuko being settled. Her loved ones crowded around her, making sure that the incompetent doctors hadn't missed any scrapes, or protruding bones, or a malignant tumour, or something else potentially life threatening. While they fussed, Katara's eyes remained on Iroh, who had taken Zuko's hand and whose eyes looked very shiny. Those eyes that were so like Zuko's flicked between the boy's chest, which rose and fell shallowly, his face, and the machines that beeped around him, fiercely checking for any and all signs of continuing life.

When she'd managed to calm her entourage down, and they'd left, she'd taken over vigil of Zuko's breathing alongside Iroh, or rather, from her position on her bed. Neither of them spoke. Katara hadn't been sure either of them would be able to without crying.

Later, just before an irate nurse managed to usher Iroh out, refusing his charms and telling him that visiting hours were over a half hour ago, Katara managed to speak up.

"I – I'm sorry, Iroh. I didn't ask him to, but maybe if – if I'd just left hi – him alone, m-m – maybe if I – I…" she trailed off, tears falling down her cheeks. This was so stupid. She was talking nonsense, couldn't even get her apology out, just like Zuko couldn't before he'd pushed her out of the way of that damn car.

Iroh's eyes were kind as he turned towards her, but just as watery as hers. "I know, Miss Katara." The nurse huffed behind him. He smiled a tiny smile. "My nephew is a brave man, but I think you underestimate what your friendship has done for him. It has been good for him. I ask only that you do not leave him alone."

She stared. What had it done for him? They could barely even be considered friends six hours ago, more antagonistic acquaintances. Nonetheless. "I won't." Katara promised, voice tiny. She wanted to offer him more that just that. At this thought, she could feel more nonsense threatening to bubble forth. She tried to tamp it down but it came anyway. "I think he'll be okay, you know." she said, unable to look at him, staring at the ceiling. "Gravity doesn't bother him, so he'll probably be getting up soon." Katara squeezed her eyes shut. _Why'd I have to mention my crazy anti-gravity musings? I was trying to reassure his uncle that he'd be fine, when I had no way of knowing that myself, not really._ For the first time in her life, Katara felt completely unqualified to offer comfort, something that was usually her specialty.

Unexpectedly, Iroh spoke again. His voice was kind and proud, and she was shocked enough to look at him. He was looking at Zuko again, his gentle gaze on his nephew's face. "Yes, perhaps. Zuko has indeed never let the difficulty of recovery stop him from getting back on his feet." A smile spread across his face, a slight fierceness to it. "Truly though, I believe my nephew is simply stronger than the forces that try to hold him down."

His eyes closed and he bowed his head slightly in Katara's direction before following the increasingly impatient nurse out the door.

* * *

Hours later, in the middle of night, Katara was twisting and turning in her somewhat uncomfortable hospital bed when she heard a groan from the other bed.

"Zuko?" Katara inquired, turning her head towards the figure stirring amongst the hospital issued cotton sheets.

"Katara? What happened?" he asked groggily, voice slurring from painkillers.

She said the first thing that popped into her mouth, which was the truth. "You pushed me out of the way of an oncoming car and let it hit you instead, you moron." The insult wasn't completely necessary, and yet it absolutely was.

"Oh. Right, that sounds familiar."

"Yeah."

Before they could stop themselves, Katara was giggling and Zuko let out a breathy laugh, which immediately made him wince.

"Ow."

"Mm, don't try defying gravity just yet, Zuko." Her words slowed down as she suddenly found herself very, very tired. Her eyes closed and her head fell heavily into the pillow, already dead to the world.

"What?"

"Katara, what are you talking about?"

"Katara?"

* * *

**To be continued with the next prompt.**

**There was one spot in this fic when I posted it in tumblr that I felt could have been massively improved with just one or two sentences, so I fixed it here. I can't fully tell if it's that much better, because I'm inclined to think that all my writing is crappity crap crap crap, but... *shrugs*.**


	5. Bound

**_Bound_**

**_Rated : T_**

**_Hey look, another shitty thing that I did. And of course as soon as I post it, I'll find that one spot where one sentence would have made the whole thing so much better. Just as I did for whatever that thing was that I posted yesterday. Well, anyways, enjoy the continuation of yesterday's entry, as well as my potentially blatant theft and modification of a Harry Potter line. Also, Princess and the Frog reference and disclaimer, lovelies._**

**_Oh and I'm not done with these two. To be continued with tomorrow's prompt, Soothe. This modern AU is not very good in my opinion, but the idea would not leave me alone before, and I think it might be better at this point to just get the damn thing down on "paper" so I can be done with it._**

* * *

Katara was at once surprised and unsurprised to find she was now friends with Zuko.

Surprised because he'd been pushing her away for months, while she'd been pushing _at_ him just as long.

Surprised because he'd been a total jerk, though she had admittedly called him an iceberg licking puppy punter. She had good reasons for that though.

Surprised because up until about 24 hours ago, she glared when she saw him, as did he.

Surprised because 24 hours ago, they'd been engaged in an angry stare-off, before she'd turned away into the path of an oncoming vehicle and he'd pushed her out of the way only to get hit himself.

Also unsurprised, because there are some things one can't go through without becoming friends and whatever the hell it was that they'd shared was one of them.

Katara now had a bond with Zuko, one neither of them really understood, but also one neither of them seemed bothered by, especially considering how it gave them someone to talk to while they were stuck in hospital.

* * *

"K-Katara?! Why are you crying?!"

"Because he's dying!"

"Katara, he's an animated firefly."

"But, he's dying! He died to help his friends and he died staring at his one true love, the brightest star in the sky! It's sad!"

"Miss Katara? My dear, why are you crying? Nephew, have you upset the young lady somehow?"

"_I_ wanted to watch Looney Tunes!"

* * *

**To be continued in with the next prompt.**


	6. Soothe

**_Soothe_**

**_Rated : T _**

**_Warning: mentions of abuse_**

**_Yo, I'm gearing up to a full on soap opera. All I gave to do is add in an evil twin and a love triangle and I'm golden. Hopefully though, you guys don't see it that way. Once again, this is the best I could do and I barely managed to get it posted in time. Hey, not my fault I slept in till half past noon the day I posted it (well, it is, but, you know…)_**

_**Continuation of day 5 - Bound**  
_

* * *

After Katara got out of the hospital, she visited Zuko most days. Iroh was usually there when she arrived, as he came in everyday for at least an hour. The first few days, he'd stayed as long as visiting hours and the irate nurse would let him. Then, after Zuko woke up and it became clear that there would be no lasting damage, Iroh would put up a sign on the door of the teashop each day that said, "Gone to restock jasmine" and he'd come to visit for more or less an hour.

One day, Katara arrived before Iroh, or rather "Uncle" as he'd asked him to call her. She'd felt a bit strange at first calling him that. He was Zuko's uncle, not hers, but neither seemed bothered by it, and she'd begun to find it difficult to call him by his given name even before he'd told her to make the switch. He was just inherently more "Uncle" then "Iroh" to her.

Zuko had been sleeping (he was still on painkillers that made him drowsy) when she'd arrived, so she'd taken a seat next to him to wait until he woke up. He always did. He possessed some weird sixth sense that let him know infallibly when somebody else was in the room, even while sleeping and high on painkillers, and he always woke up within five minutes. She suspected it would have been less if his body hadn't been trying to heal his multitude of injuries.

Katara looked around the room as she listened to the bustle of nurses and doctors going by the door, occasionally glancing in and muttering to each other. Looked like a busy day at the hospital. Perhaps she should tell the gang to meet her outside the hospital, once she was done. They weren't a massive group, but if the hospital was busy, maybe it would be better if they came to talk to Zuko later… Katara had a lot of respect for hospitals, wanted to be a doctor herself, so keeping out of the way of the people saving lives seemed like a good idea.

The nurses had obviously been in earlier to change Zuko's bandages, and to check up with the doctor, since his X-rays were still mounted on the negatoscope on the wall facing his bed, and he was shirtless.

Katara blushed. She'd seen him shirtless before, from a distance, while the nurses had changed his bandages earlier in their hospital stay and she'd still been confined to her bed on the other side of the room. Even from far away and while he was covered in bruises and pieces of gauze, she had been able to tell that Zuko was ripped.

Blush still on her face and hoping that Zuko would wait the full five minutes before becoming conscious, Katara let her eyes roam over his extremely well muscled torso.

What a view. Katara bit her lip as she admired the cut of his abs, still slightly bruised and scarred.

Wait.

Katara leaned in, brow furrowed, observing the scars that, now that there was less bruising, she could suddenly see nearly all over his stomach.

A kind of panic gripped her heart. Those shouldn't be there. Any injuries Zuko had gotten in the crash should not have healed and scarred over so quickly. And she knew, _she_ _knew_, that his stomach had not been this cut up in the crash.

Breath quickening, her eyes flicked over the scars, taking stock of the shapes and sizes, trying to figure out how they could have gotten there. Her eyes moved up, past the bandages around his ribs, just as Zuko shifted his arm away from his body, still sleeping, and she caught sight of his side.

She gasped. Arranged inconsistently on the expanse of skin, where they would usually be covered by his bicep, were burns. Small, round, and shiny, Katara knew instinctively that a cigarette pressed into his bare skin had caused them. They were healed, all of them, but they must have hurt like…

Katara whirled around, her cerulean eyes, irises barely showing around her fear-dilated pupil, searching for the X-rays she'd spotted earlier.

There. And there. And there and there and there. Her hand came up to her mouth, a sick feeling weighing her stomach down. Katara didn't know too much about this, but she was interested enough in medicine to have read a few books on the subject and she'd watched enough TV to recognize a remodeled fracture. A healed broken bone. And now, observing the X-rays of Zuko's chest, she saw them everywhere. Her nausea increased as she realized she wouldn't even have been able to recognize them had there not been so many. Zuko's ribs had taken the brunt of some kind of blunt force more times than she was ever interested in knowing. But how… who could have…

"Katara?" The raspy voice sounded behind her, right on the five-minute mark. Zuko had woken up.

Spirits what was she supposed to do? Zuko had clearly been… Tui and La she couldn't even say it in her head. What if it was still happening? Her panic rose as her mind flicked to a jolly old man who served them tea. No, it couldn't be. It just couldn't.

Katara felt her head spin. Zuko called her name again and she knew she had to turn around. She knew it couldn't be uncle, it couldn't be, but… what if…

Katara's dilemma was solved for her when a voice echoed around the room, originating from the hallway outside the room.

"Sir, I'm afraid you can't go in there."

"Why?" Katara started as she recognized uncle's voice. He sounded worried. "Is there something wrong with my nephew?"

"No, sir, but we have to ask, you are the boy's guardian, are you not?" Katara stepped back from the negatoscope and looked to the door. She could see the doctor who was addressing uncle, as well as the security guard that stood beside him.

"Yes, I am." Replied uncle, voice confused and still worried, but gaining the tiniest note of suspicion.

"Then I am afraid we cannot let you see him right now."

"What?" Zuko's voice came from behind her again. He had clearly been listening in as well. His tone was pure confusion.

More voices came from the hall. "Uncle Iroh?" Aang's voice. Her friends were early. "What's going on?"

"Is Zuko okay?" Sokka's voice now. Katara stood frozen, morbidly curious to see how this would play out.

She could see the doctor look reluctant to speak now with more people present, but she also knew he would anyway. He didn't have a choice.

"Sir, your nephew's body displays evidence of severe abuse." Gasps rang out from the corridor. Katara glanced at Zuko, desperate for his reaction.

His eyes were wide as he stared at the doorway. Fearful, and, was that shame? She supposed, if a doctor was laying out her scars for the world to see not seven feet away from her... She turned back to the doctor, unable not to as he continued.

"His medical history does not account for the injuries and the facial burn alone is indicative of severe mistreatment."

Zuko made a choked noise behind her. But the doctor still wasn't done.

"Our policy in this situation is to ensure that the potential perpetrators of the abuse are kept away from the victims. Your nephew will be kept here until he has recovered and then he will be moved to a home until an investigation has been conducted."

"_**NO!**_"

Katara turned to find Zuko struggling to remove himself from the bed, desperately fighting his sheets and various tubes and wires for his freedom.

The doctor came in, eyes wide, accompanied by the guard. Uncle was now visible in the door, looking as desperate as Zuko, but entirely more composed.

The doctor advanced on Zuko, obviously about to try and calm him down. "Mr. Sozin…" he warned, tone soothing.

Zuko managed to get off the bed, forcing himself to his feet on the floor to his left, keeping the bed between him and the doctor, clutching his ribs with his unbroken arm.

He panted, glaring so fiercely at the doctor that she was surprised the man didn't shrink back. "You can't. You can't put me in a home. My uncle didn't do _anything_."

The doctor frowned. "Zuko, you need to calm down. Your body's trying to heal, you'll only aggravate your injuries this way." The man turned his head ever so slightly to address the guard, keeping his eyes on Zuko. "Please escort his uncle out, Danny."

"Danny" nodded and started towards Iroh. Katara could see Sokka, Aang, Toph and Suki out in the hall, looking in with wide eyes.

"NO! Uncle!" Zuko cried out, hobbling as fast as he could around the bed, past Katara, still clutching his ribs, trying to get to his uncle. The doctor stopped him midway there, attempting to restrain him while also not hurting him. Zuko refused to make it easy. He was _fighting_ the man, despite his injuries, still trying to stop the guard from taking his uncle.

Iroh looked absolutely torn, unsure which was the better course of action; go quietly or refuse, though it was clear he wanted to run to his nephew just as much as Zuko wanted to get to him. Despite all the confusion, the guard was still doing his part, gripping Uncle by the elbow and starting to turn him towards the door. Two nurses appeared, one joining the doctor in attempting to get Zuko back to his bed, one remaining shell-shocked in the door.

Zuko only fought harder, crying out again, his words uncensored.

"STOP! Uncle! Please, it wasn't him! Don't take him away! Please, IT WASN'T HIM!" Tears flowed down Katara's cheeks as she watched moisture gather in Zuko's eyes. This wasn't right, they were taking the wrong person, Katara knew. It was obvious in Zuko's desperation.

The doctor and nurse were still trying to restrain Zuko, who was clearly tiring, still doped up on painkillers and suffering from his injuries. This only made him yell louder.

"NO! IT WASN'T HIM, I SWEAR! IT WAS FATHER! MY FATHER DID IT! PLEASE!" His teeth were bared as a few tears managed to escape. "PLEASE! HE GOT ME AWAY FROM HIM! HE'S ALL I HAVE; YOU CAN'T TAKE HIM! PLEASE!"

The doctor's eyes widened and the guard stopped ushering Iroh when this confession fell from Zuko's mouth. This changed things.

In the next second, the nurse who had been at the door entered the room, a syringe in her hand. The other nurse and the doctor managed to give her access to Zuko's good arm and he was given a sedative.

"Uncle, please… don't take… father did… it…" His voice got progressively softer and his body progressively limper as the drug took effect. Finally, his eyes closed and he was out.

They got him back in bed, rearranging the sheets and tubes, the nurses checking his injuries, making sure he hadn't caused himself more damage.

The doctor turned to Uncle, eyes wary. "Is this true? Was it his father?"

Uncle tore his sad eyes away from Zuko's limp form. His gaze hardened as he faced the doctor, looking angry for the first time Katara had ever seen. "Yes, it's true. My brother did this. To his own son." Iroh sounded as if he could still not fully believe it. "Zuko has been in and out of hospital for years. In our hometown, my brother is a powerful figure, and I - we were never able to prove anything. Three years ago, Ozai finally renounced his rights to keep Zuko as his son when he banished him from his home. I took Zuko in."

The doctor looked equally convinced and unconvinced. Katara held back a sob.

Iroh's gaze turned pleading and desperate, as it had been when he watched his nephew fight the doctor. "Please, do not take him away from me. He is like a son to me. I have the number of the hospital in our hometown where Zuko was usually brought. Please, they will confirm what I've said."

Everyone held their breath. Finally the doctor nodded. The guard stepped away from Uncle, who hurried to his nephew's side, stroking his ebony hair back from his face in relief.

Katara, not wanting to intrude, left the room, joining her friends in the hallway, where straggler spectators to the excitement were slowly walking off.

Everyone still looked shocked and sad, unsurprisingly. Katara accepted the pack of tissues that Suki produced and let herself cry into her brother's shoulder. Aang and Toph rubbed her back, and Suki placed her hand on Sokka's back, supporting him as well.

Finally, when Katara had cried it out, they all slid down the wall to sit on the floor, exhausted from the emotional turmoil.

"I guess – I guess this explains some stuff, doesn't it?" Aang eventually said.

There was a pause. "Sort of, yeah. I guess it does." Sokka answered.

Toph snorted. "Well, it certainly explains why he didn't want to go out for any of the sports teams. After all, we all know you guys compare bods in the changeroom."

The confident tone in the tough girl's voice while delivering this very slightly lame attempt at humour and Sokka's indignant response did what the joke couldn't.

They laughed for a ridiculously long time, the nurses giving them funny looks as they passed.

Their laughter soothed the shock and anger and sadness that the day's happenings had caused and they were calm and ready when Iroh stuck his head out the door and invited them in.

They gathered around Zuko's bed, and the gang thanked him for pushing Katara out of the way of that car, as they had been planning to do when they first arrived at the hospital, and then they said no more, except to start their usual banter.

Once they left, and Uncle was called away to talk to the doctors again, Katara stayed.

Zuko eyed his uncle worriedly as he left through the door. He was still suspicious of the hospital allowing Uncle to stay with him. When he had first woken up, Uncle would tell her later, panic had coloured his golden eyes almost immediately, until Uncle had explained what had happened after he'd been given the sedative.

When his uncle had disappeared from view, Zuko had sighed at the ceiling, until Katara had cleared her throat.

She was glaring when he looked at her. He looked startled.

"What?"

She glared some more. "You idiot."

He looked miffed now. "How so?"

Katara rolled her eyes before speaking in a high falsetto. "Oh, look at me! I'm Zuko and I don't need to stay in bed with multiple broken bones, bruises and cuts! I'll just get up and start walking around, maybe get into a fight with some doctors! What a marvelous idea!"

"I do not talk like that!" His voice was disgruntled, but the tiny quirk to his lip was exactly what Katara had been aiming for.

She stuck her nose in the air, looking prim. "Maybe not, but you did aggravate your injuries, iceberg licker."

"I'll have you know I've never licked an iceberg in my life, and I've certainly never punted a puppy. I may have started moving around a bit early considering my injuries, but I don't appreciate these other accusations. They're all false."

Katara answered back, and they talked and bantered until Uncle returned and she had to leave and get home.

This was what Zuko needed right now, she figured. He'd hid his scars well, but now they had been laid out in the open, and that would be acknowledged, but not today. Today Zuko needed a distraction, and she needed to remind him that they were friends; had been bound in some strange way since that car crash, and that she wasn't going anywhere, nor was she going to treat him differently.

Over the next few months, Katara would learn the near full extent of what had been done to Zuko; she would learn of the disappearance and subsequent murder of his mother, she would learn more about each of the scars she'd seen. She would listen to him explain his reasons and the mentality that had made him push her away; hear how he appreciated her continued efforts even as he'd rebuffed them. She would be told which of the rumours that surrounded him at school were true; he had in fact been held back a year, but only because he'd missed too much school to finish the year when he'd received the burn to his face. She would hear how he'd learned to fight so that it couldn't happen to him again. She would listen and she would soothe him, sharing her own hurts, her own scars, like the death of her mother. Something they had in common.

But, the soothing would come later. For now, Zuko needed normalcy, needed a breathing period after what had happened, all that had been revealed.

Because sometimes, just breathing in and out was as soothing as it was possible, and necessary, to be.

* * *

**_To be continued_ with tomorrow's prompt: _Spark_**

**I always imagined that in a modern setting, if Zuko's father were the one to give him the scar and get away with it (if we consider domestic violence policies today), then he'd probably also manage to get away with a helluva lot more abuse. **

**Also, look at that, I barely mentioned soothing. Go me.**


	7. Spark

**_Spark_**

**_Rated : M (just in case, I guess? I mean, it's not really, but you probably shouldn't read it at work anyway, so just to be safe)_**

**_Continuation of Day 6 - Soothe._**

**_Seriously, soap operas should just hand over all the writing responsibility to me. I'm clearly good (read: bad) enough. And dramatic enough. It's not evil twins, or a love triangle (cuz I hates them) but it is some angsty make outs._**

**_But honestly, I was so done with this prompt when I wrote it - two days late. So, I decided to work in the rest of the fanfiction tropes that were begging to be added to this modern AU and be done with it. That is why it's shitty. If you don't think it's shitty, that's still the reason for it being shitty._**

**_Well, moving on. Just read it._**

* * *

It took about two weeks for Katara to acknowledge the potential for a spark between her and Zuko.

At first, she'd let it be, denied it even. Zuko was still healing, both from the crash and the near separation from his uncle, and it was not the time. But, after a few more months, when Zuko was nearing graduation, along with Sokka and Suki, and the rest of them were nearing the end of their school year; Katara could hardly bear it, let alone deny it.

Whenever she saw Zuko; whenever she watched him work at the Jasmine Dragon, or frown over a difficult history essay in the library, or, Spirits forbid, whenever he would perform the acrobatics or martial arts he was so good at, that spark would ignite a fire in her veins that raced through her body, a rushing noise filling her ears. The noise was there only a split second, but the fire remained until long after she'd left Zuko's side again.

She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to run her hands through that shaggy ebony hair and tug. She wanted to discover every single scar on his body. She wanted to run her tongue along the alabaster column of his neck. She wanted to scrape her teeth across his abs. She wanted to… stop thinking about these things when Sokka was trying to talk to her on the phone.

"Katara, did you hear me? I said Zuko's gonna drive you home from swim practice. I have this follow-up interview with the engineering department at Ba Sing Se, and I can't miss it."

Katara shook her head. Sea prunes, this was pathetic. Her brother mentions Zuko's name and her mind tunes out of what he's saying and right into _Zuko's bod, the program that meets all your dirty-minded needs_. "Yeah, sorry, I got distracted looking for something in my bag. Of course you can't miss the interview, Sokka. I'll see you at home, right?"

"Right, see ya!" Came the cheerful response.

Katara smiled and stuffed her phone back in her bag. Zuko was at this point officially part of the gang, meaning that Sokka actually trusted him with his baby's sister's transportation. Katara mentally rolled her eyes; it must be a miracle.

Also, as sad as it was that most of her waking moments were now spent daydreaming about the boy she was very possibly in love with, she could not help but feel excited about getting spend an entire car ride alone with him.

As she pulled on her swimsuit amongst the other girls on the swim team, Katara picked her brain for what exactly to do about this… situation she was in. Not for the first time, she cursed Zuko's stoicism, as it often did a pretty good job of hiding what he was feeling. She didn't know how Zuko felt about her, except that she was a great friend (if she did say so herself).

As she pulled on her swim cap and grabbed her goggles, Katara decided to think on it later. She had no ideas anyway, and she always devoted her full attention to swim practice. She wasn't going to go any faster if she was being weighed down by thoughts of Zuko, or anything else for that matter, except _push, pull, stroke, swim_.

Two hours later, Katara pulled her exhausted, yet exhilarated body from the chlorinated water of her school's swimming pool.

She felt eyes on her and looked to the windows that ran along one wall, looking out to the field and the fence that divided it from the path leading to the pool's entrance. Her eyes passed over the sign that declared, "Our School has a Pool" and she scowled. She hated that rhyme.

Finally her ocean gaze landed on a figure whose gold eyes blazed as he took in her wet and swim suited figure. Katara's mouth nearly fell open. The spark in Zuko's eyes was gone in a millisecond, and he waved, smiling slightly. Dumbly, she waved back, pulling herself up and mindlessly wrapping her towel around her as she attempted to process what she had just seen.

Katara wasn't an innocent. She'd had boyfriends. She knew what that spark had been in Zuko's eyes. That was lust, or she hadn't just shaved her swim times down a full half-second.

Right, this changed things. Walking to Zuko's car (an early graduation gift from his uncle) after changing clothes and pulling herself together, she regaled him with stories of beating that asshole Hahn's swim times by a landslide. He chuckled, and some girls who were passing by blushed and indiscreetly ogled his ass. She scowled at them behind Zuko's back as he congratulated her, saying he was sure she would win the meet on Saturday no problem.

Due to the proximity of the two events, Katara felt a strange combination of jealousy, happiness and flattery swirling around her tummy. This was ridiculous. It was time she did something about this. If Zuko was lusting for her, she would just have to get him to keep doing so, until he couldn't take it anymore and asked her out.

It was a testament to Katara's slightly waterlogged brain that she thought this was the best course of action and continued to think so as she put her plan into motion. She was usually an incredibly smart girl and later she would wonder herself why it had never occurred to her to just ask him out herself.

So, the next three weeks were filled with subtle touches to Zuko's arms, crossing her legs as she sat at the counter at the Jasmine Dragon just as he would pass by, and, in celebration of the warmer weather of course, short sleeves, shorts, popsicles and ice cream.

She caught the look in Zuko's eyes several more times, and knew too that his eyes were flashing with it when he turned away.

Finally, the day came when Zuko couldn't take it anymore. Though it didn't quite go how Katara expected it to.

She'd cooked up a new tactic the night before, and was feeling positively devious as Zuko rang the doorbell. They had been planning to go shopping for a present for Aang's birthday, which was in a week or so. Katara had called for him to "come on up, the door's open", and so he had, leaning on the doorframe to her room as she fussed and collected things she would need. She'd turned towards him, as if ready to leave, and then paused, feigning thoughtfulness.

She eyed the bag she'd selected to take with her. "Hmmm, if I'm taking this bag I should probably change outfits." She'd turned away, towards her dresser, practically sensing Zuko roll his eyes behind her, gearing up to say something sarcastic, when she stopped momentarily to pull her dress over her head, leaving her body covered only by a matching black bra and panties. She could feel the tension radiating off the boy behind her, was dying to turn around and see his reaction, her smile threatening to split her face in half, but she had to continue to feign ignorance. She bent over and drew open the second last drawer of her dresser, pulling out a pair of dark red cutoffs and stepping into them.

A strangled noise sounded behind her. Katara felt victorious for a moment; sure she'd succeeded, before Zuko spoke.

"Agni, Katara. _Please_, _**stop**_." She stopped in her tracks. He sounded at once desperate, tortured, heartbroken _and_ angry, which, while a killer combination, was not the result she had been hoping for. Suddenly feeling deflated; she pulled up her shorts and buttoned them with speedy fingers, before quickly facing Zuko, attempting to keep her face looking alarmed and only mildly quizzical. The alarmed part was easy.

"Why, Zuko? What's wrong?"

He ran his hand through his hair, a dead giveaway to his frustration. He took a moment to answer, and when he did, the words came out in a rush, gaining momentum as he continued. "Look, I – I understand that you see me as someone that you don't even have to worry about changing in front of. I get that I'm never gonna get a girl like you and both of us have recognized that, but please, can you just… can we… I just, I do like you enough that I'd rather not be teased constantly with what I can't have, okay!"

With that, he turned on his heel and was out her door before Katara could say "oops".

She stood in shock for a full five minutes, and then stayed where she was as her brain moved straight into berating her dumb choices, as well as Zuko's.

_What were you thinking?_

This seemed like a good method!

_Well, it clearly wasn't! The poor boy thinks you don't want him, which makes you a massive tease!_

Well, excuuuuse me, it's not my fault he's an idiot for thinking I don't want him.

_This is true, but are you really all that surprised? The boy's the very definition of stoic and he has a huge self-sacrificing streak to boot. Not to mention years of abuse making him think he's less than he is. And then there's -_

Yeah, alright! I get it!

_Good._

But what am I supposed to do now? He probably hates me! *Despair*

_Are you kidding me? That boy couldn't hate you if his mama made him promise._

You think so?

_*Sigh*__** Yes**__. He's your best friend, idiot. Just friggin' tell him how you feel._

Okay, yeah. Good plan. I'll just go do that. Now. I –

**_Go!_**

Snapping out of her inner monologue (or, was it dialogue if there was a second voice? But it was still in _your_ own head, right? So, - wait, not the time for this.), Katara grabbed a shirt and shoes and pulled them on as she raced down the stairs and out her door. She paused at the end of the street, wondering where Zuko would go, then chose a left-hand turn and raced towards the Jasmine Dragon.

Arriving at the storefront, she braced herself on her knees and panted a moment, then jogged through the tiny opening between it and the next building, squeezed her way onto the back lot of the shop and took the stairs to the second floor apartment where Iroh and Zuko lived two at a time.

Leaning down, she searched the various flowerpots for the spare key, checking underneath and inside each one for a flash of metal. She prayed Zuko was here, since if he wasn't, she would not be entirely sure where else to look. She couldn't ask Iroh, since he was out of town visiting an old friend and attending a tea ceremony for a few days. This also meant that if she did not find Zuko here, or in the few other places she had in mind, she would not see him for days, since he did not have to work as the teashop was closed with Uncle not there, and they had a four day weekend off from school.

Katara choked back her mounting urgency as she continued to search for the key. Who knew what kind of stupid decision Zuko would come up with in four days if she could not knock some sense into him? Already she was afraid he wouldn't open the door if she knocked and he saw her there, hence her search for the –

Aha! Grinning in triumph, Katara fitted the newly found key in the lock, and opened the door smoothly.

She took off her shoes and padded through the kitchen, past the living room and into the hall that gave way to the bedrooms and bathroom.

Arriving at Zuko's open door, she saw him inside, sitting on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands.

He looked up the moment she stood in the doorway, eyes wide.

They stood a moment, just looking at each other. Zuko exhaled, a sound she thought was her name on his lips, but she'd already found her voice.

"What makes you think you can't get a girl like me?" She was still a tiny bit breathless from her journey, and her irritation was showing through, as well as the pure, unadulterated incomprehension that she still felt towards his coming to such a conclusion.

Zuko's head fell back to his hands. A dry, humourless laugh was let out. "Are you kidding me?"

Katara was pretty sure that was rhetorical, but what the hey. "No, I'm not, Zuko. I would really like to know the logic behind your assumption." Acid infused her voice, not so tellar patience already running out.

Zuko's was too. He stood up and was in her personal space in one stride. "The logic, huh?" His voice increased in weight, pressing the words down in the space between them. "The logic behind why _I_; scarred, tea-serving, angry, assumed _delinquent_, can't get a girl like you; _a beautiful, talented, stubborn, smart, caring individual,_ _who doesn't even need any of that because you're just… - __**you!**_" He threw his hands up, then back down, squaring off against her gaze.

He was breathing hard and, momentarily, Katara realized she was too.

Looking into his eyes, blazing with a thousand different emotions, with the effort of admitting what he just had, Katara could only think of one thing to say. And, for better or worse, she did.

"You're an idiot." She half hissed. His eyes hardened and his jaw shifted as if to reply, but she didn't give him a chance.

Reaching across the small space that separated them, she grabbed hold of his face and yanked his lips to hers.

She moaned when her lips touched his, and the sound was enough to break Zuko out of his momentary freeze enough for him to retaliate with vigour. His arms wrapped around her, bringing their bodies as close as possible while his tongue swept across her lips, demanding entrance.

She gave it, opening her mouth and having her tongue meet his, the temperature in the room going up about ten degrees.

Needing to be closer, she jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist, her hands and arms coming to grip him around the shoulders. The kiss was broken for a moment, but resumed with even more zeal the second she was settled.

His hands were roaming everywhere, pressing against her lower back, cupping her neck, her ass, as the kiss went on and on, hot and wet and oh so wonderful. They brushed the sides of her breasts and she gasped into his mouth, feeling him smirk ever so slightly against her lips.

Finally his warm hands settled on her thighs, griping tightly as he moved forward to press her hard against the wall. The pressure on her pelvis which had been nearly but not quite there a moment before, blossomed into full blown contact as her center came into contact with the bulge in his jeans. Katara let out a moan and broke the kiss, her head arching back into the wall.

Zuko let out a groan as his mouth traveled to her neck, and the sound coupled with the sensation of his hot breath just under her jaw made her hips roll back into his, recreating that amazing pressure. Zuko gasped, and tentatively rolled back.

Suddenly Katara was sure that if she died right then, she would die happy. Well, almost. Something was still missing.

Nearly grinning at her own thoughts and the giddy sensations running through her, Katara used the hand she had weaved through Zuko's black hair as he attacked her neck to drag her face back up to his, smashing their lips together and forcing her tongue into his mouth. They stroked and sucked, biting each others lips, Zuko's chest smashed to hers as their lower halves grinded into each other again and again.

Suddenly remembering the way his body was supremely well-built and wanting to see it again, Katara reached for the edge of his shirt, tugging it up.

Zuko understanding what she wanted, pinned her harder to the wall with his hips and separated to work the shirt over his head.

In seconds it was on the floor beside them and Katara reached her hands out to rest on his alabaster chest. The need suddenly slowed to a simmer.

Katara could feel Zuko's heart beating double time under the palm of her right hand. She perused his torso with an appreciative eye, not moving her hands yet, just… looking. She catalogued his scars, constructing a game plan for her future oral assault on each one of them.

However; when Zuko's heart started beating even faster and she looked up in confusion to find heartbreaking insecurity on his face, she remembered that she had previously listened to Zuko spill his secrets, called him an idiot and then proceeded to make out with him with no explanation. Katara felt like punching herself.

She felt Zuko shift, start to pull away from her, his head already turning in anticipation of the search for his shirt. He never wore anything that didn't cover nearly all his scars and she suspected it was partially to hide them, partially because he was ashamed of them, and her staring had not helped. Determined to not let him get away this time, Katara tightened her legs around his hips and seized his face in both of her hands, turning it to face her.

He wouldn't meet her eyes, and she missed the warmth of his hands, which now rested oh so lightly on her waist, as if he had no right to touch her, but still wanted to be able to catch her if she fell.

Her heart swelled. Spirits, this boy was perfect. "Zuko, look at me. Please."

Reluctantly, his amber eyes met hers, sparks of differing emotions burning in their depths.

She took a deep breath, realized she had no idea what to say and blurted, "You make good tea."

Zuko's brow scrunched in confusion and Katara was doubly certain that she deserved a black eye courtesy of herself, and rushed to explain, all of it tumbling out in a marathon ramble of blushing and stammering.

"I mean, the tea, it's nice – I mean, it's sexy, the way you make it, and that makes you sexy, except you're sexy without that too, and even when I first started talking to you – or trying to, anyway - I thought you were good looking, and then you were being dumb, and mean – and then there was the car, and you pushed me out of the way, and then we were friends and everything – and then the hospital stuff happened, but we were still okay and I thought maybe there was something there but I waited, for some reasons, and – and then I wanted you to like me, I mean, not like, 'cuz you already do that, I think – you do like me right? – but like, like-like me, and so then I got all the ice creams and the underwear and the changing in front of you and then you were upset 'cuz you thought I didn't see you like that and was unintentionally dangling it in front of you, but I actually just wanted you to do what we were just doing because you're beautiful and have pretty eyes and sexy muscles and you're smart and you love your uncle and you can do backflips, like, easily and, and – and… you make… really good tea." She finished lamely, hands now clutched to her chest to protect herself from the embarrassment that was that blurt fest, barely resisting from cringing away from her pathetic attempt at telling him how she felt.

Eventually she realized she had nonetheless closed her eyes in self-exasperation and decided to open them, taking the renewed and much stronger grip of Zuko's hands on her waist as assurance that he didn't totally hate her.

Her blue eyes met amber ones filled to the brim with incredulity. Good or bad, she didn't know, but she sort of forgot as she got lost in his eyes for what felt like the tenth time that week. And it was only Wednesday.

Finally, he spoke and she let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding.

"Really?" he breathed, "you really feel that way?"

Passionate irritation flared in Katara as she threw her hands up slightly. "YES, you jerk! I like you, okay? A lot, and – "

She was cut off as lips met hers.

* * *

**Erhmahgurd. So bad. Cringe, cringe, cringe.**


End file.
